Forgiveness and mercy are not well understood or practiced in our day.

It’s like the Church knows all that was going to happen in some weird way and arranged the lectionary readings for times such as we live in.
Our readings today are not different. I want to offer my own reflection on the texts for this Sunday. Our readings (leaving out the Epistle) were:
Sirach 27:30-28:7
Psalm 103:1-4, 9-12
Matthew 18:21-35

Let’s consider our Gospel reading first. I feel like we need some context. At the beginning of Matthew 18, the disciples ask Jesus who is the greatest in the kingdom of Heaven.

Can we just take a second and realize that the disciples just weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed?! I mean, for real. These guys had been learning from and living with Jesus day in and day out for quite awhile, watching Him heal sick people and multiply fish and bread…and then they ask dumb questions like this.
If I’m being honest, it kinda gives me comfort. If these dudes don’t get it after all this time, I don’t feel so bad about myself when I don’t “get it” at times either. But, thanks be to God He uses guys like Peter and guys like you and me.

Anyways, context is important so we need to look at it. They ask Jesus who is the greatest. Jesus, being all Jesus, tells them stories rather than give them a direct answer. He brings a child among them and tells them to be humble like a child. Then He tells them to pluck out their eyeballs and cut off their hand rather than be tempted to sin (that seems a little harsh). Then He tells the parable of the lost sheep and how to respond to those who refuse to repent. Then He gives them the authority to forgive sins.

It was a pretty serious conversation.

Now we pick up where our reading today begins. Peter, after just hearing all this, opens up his big mouth and says, “How many times should I forgive someone who sins against me?”
I would have paid money to see the look on Jesus’ face when that bone-headed question came out of St. Peter’s mouth.

So Jesus, being all Jesus, tells another story. He tells a story to compare Peter’s (and our) understanding of forgiveness and mercy to the heavenly understanding of forgiveness and mercy. Do you see that?

See, our understanding of forgiveness and mercy is based on self.
What do I get out of it?
What’s in it for me?
What’s the least I have to do?

That’s all implied in Peter’s question. In effect, he’s saying, “Jesus, tell me the least I have to do.” He didn’t ask that Jesus make him humble like a child and free him from sin and fall on his face saying ‘I’m not worthy’ when Jesus gives him authority to forgive sins. No, Peter wants to know what’s the least I gotta do?
We’re exactly the same as Peter. I mean, if we’re being honest with ourselves. We’re not really interested in knowing what Jesus wants from us, not really. We just want to get by with the least we can do. We don’t really want to be humble like a child; we don’t really want to radically obey Him and be willing to give up anything (even a limb) if it meant being closer to Him; we don’t really want to know about forgiveness and mercy. If we did, we wouldn’t be like Peter or the wicked servant in the parable.

But we are.

What is Jesus saying to us then? How are we to respond?
Jesus is telling us that the Kingdom of God is different. In the Kingdom, the King is overly kind and generous, forgiving us a debt we cannot possibly pay. In the Kingdom, we forgive as we have been forgiven. There are expectations of us if we are part of the Kingdom. He expects us to forgive as He forgives. After all, the petty things that people say to us and do to us pale in comparison to the cosmic treason we have committed against our Creator, our Lord and King!

Sirach 8:2-7 reminds us,
“Forgive your neighbor the wrong he has done, and then your sins will be pardoned when you pray. Does a man harbor anger against another, and yet seek for healing from the Lord? Does he have no mercy toward a man like himself, and yet pray for his own sins? If he himself, being flesh, maintains wrath, will he then seek forgiveness from God? Who will make expiation for his sins? Remember the end of your life, and cease from enmity, remember destruction and death, and be true to the commandments. Remember the commandments, and do not be angry with your neighbor; remember the covenant of the Most High, and overlook ignorance.”

Who God is and what He demands of us as we follow Him aren’t always easy. But let us remember who God is!
King David reminds us in Psalm 103 that the Lord forgives iniquities and heals our diseases (vs. 3), He redeems our life from the Pit and crowns us with mercy and compassion (vs. 4), He will not always chide nor keep His anger forever (vs. 9), He does not deal with us according to our sins (vs. 10) but, in His mercy, removes our sins as far as the east is from the west (vs. 12)!

Oh Church, look upon the mercy of our great God! See how He has forgiven us in the blood of the Son! By our faith in the perfect and spotless slain Lamb of God, our sins are removed and we who were once servants who could not possibly pay the debt we owe are now called children of God; sons and daughters of the Most High!

Oh Church, let us give Him thanks and praise for His everlasting mercy! He does not deal with us according to our sins but according to His great love which He has shown to us in Christ our Lord!
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Thanks be to God!

It’s funny to me how things happen sometimes. Maybe funny isn’t the right word. Ironic is a better word. It’s ironic to me how things happen sometimes. I asked for suggestions on what to write about and two people suggested I write about things revolving around sin.
Here’s where irony comes in.
I’m doing an in-depth study right now through the gospel of Luke, while listening to a podcast, clearly a Sunday School type class, of an Orthodox priest teaching through the same. It’s been really good so far.
So yesterday, two people suggest I write about sin and this morning, the text covered was Luke 7:36-50. Take some time before continuing to read this text, ‘cause I’m not going to quote the whole thing. So, after going through this text this morning, I was struck by a couple of things. I was struck by the fact that I am much less like the woman and much more like the Pharisee in this story. And I was struck by the tender love and mercy of our Lord.

Let me explain.

Simon, our Pharisee in this story, is hosting Jesus for dinner. A word about Pharisees before we proceed, since we see them featured so prominently in the gospels. I don’t think the Pharisees were evil dudes. Granted, the murder of our Lord was at the hand of the Romans at the behest of the Pharisees and others in the ruling religious elite of Israel at the time. Having said that, I still don’t think the Pharisees were all evil dudes. They were, in the best way they knew how at the time, genuinely trying to serve God and obey His commands.
Yes of course they made up more rules than the Torah did and of course they missed the boat when it came to Jesus. But they weren’t just being mean. They were actually trying to follow God’s commands. Granted, they went a little overboard but they were trying, which is more than can be said for most of the Gentiles at the time.
Where things went sideways with the Pharisees, especially this one in this text, is that they began to believe that, because they were so good at keeping the rules, they didn’t need a Saviour. Why would they need some dirt poor peasant from Nazareth preaching to them when they had it all figured out? I mean, they were really good at following the rules.
The problem was is that their legalism had led them to pride. At least, it certainly did for Simon in this text. See, he didn’t invite Jesus over for dinner because he wanted to sit at His feet and learn and worship. He invited Jesus over because he wanted to find a way to discredit Him. Simon was motivated by pride.
Contrast that with this woman. We are never given her name. All we know is that Luke says she was a “woman of the city, who was a sinner.” A pretty vague description, don’t you think? But here’s what we do know about her. She stood behind Jesus’ feet. She wouldn’t even look Him in the eyes, probably never even looked up. Instead, she groveled at the feet of Jesus. She wept. In fact, she wept so much that she soaked Jesus’ feet. In fact, she washed His feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. Her hair, ya’ll. Then she kissed his feet and anointed Him with fragrant ointment.
Ever wonder how awkward this encounter was for everyone in the room? I mean, don’t you think it got awfully quiet while this was going on?
Notice Simon’s pride. He thinks to himself, “If this dude were really who everyone says he is…and who he says he is, he would know who this woman is and wouldn’t be hanging around with her.”
Here’s more irony. Jesus reads Simon’s mind. Look at the text. Verse 39 says he thought it. It’s ironic that, when Jesus then speaks to Simon about what Simon is thinking about, Simon doesn’t even seem to realize that Jesus just read his mind. Ironic, isn’t it?
But here is where we see the tender mercy of Jesus, even for this arrogant legalist. Jesus calls him by name. He says, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” He doesn’t berate him, even though He has read his mind and knows his arrogance. He doesn’t even call him a white-washed tomb or anything like that. He calls him by his name and tells him a story to point out to him where his own faith has fallen short. How tender and merciful our Lord is, even to those of us who are arrogant. See, Simon had a lot of knowledge about God. He knew the Torah and was faithful to follow it. But, Simon needed to learn something else.

Knowledge doesn’t trump humility.

Then, Jesus turns to the woman and says to her, “Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” Oh, how tender our Lord is!
So, let me ask you…

Are you more like Simon or the woman? I have to admit that I am far too often like Simon. I pray (twice) daily and read the Scriptures. I go to Mass (when we’re not quarantined). I follow the rules (mostly) and I have a lot of theological knowledge.  But, can I just confess something?

I don’t remember the last time I wept over my sins.
Do you?

The grace of our Lord extends to all, even those of us whom have not recently (or ever) wept over our sins. The grace of God extends even to Simon and all the other legalists out there.
Would you join me in praying that the Spirit would break our hearts for our sins? Would you join me in falling at the feet of Jesus and, by His mercy, hearing those wonderful words:
“Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
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Maybe what we need is a lot more humility and a lot less hubris.